Sunset's Agony
by readingfreak94
Summary: It was the end of sunset and thunder rumbled in the distance. She had to find her. Where was she?...a lightning strike flickered through the windows of the old mansion and the little girl saw something she didn't quite understand.
1. Prologue

It was the end of sunset and thunder rumbled in the little Girl shivered but quelled such a childish notion. She had to find her. Where was she? She was always busy but that soft smile would appear when the little Girl wanted to show off her latest trick. She would patiently say yes and the little Girl would start and she was always so amazed.

"Mommy?" the little Girl questioned eager to find her Mother and show her the latest trick the little girl had learned.

"Mommy? Where are you? You gotta see it Mommy, I'm amazing." The little Girl felt a spasm of fear that her Mother had taught her to control. 'Love, you must run.' a beatific voice sounded through her head.

"Mommy?" the little Girl whimpered. She turned the last corner of the old Victorian mansion and saw what her Mother had already seen long before.

That beautiful woman with her long waves of red hair and bright eyes with those familiar flecks of green and chocolate brown. That much She could see but, there was something wrong. Mommy was choking on the floor and making gurgling noises like those awful pale things that Mommy got rid of. The little Girl made a face at the thought of those things. Mommy was sick for day's after that. Father said to leave it be and the little Girl did.

What had Mommy called them? The little Girl moved to go towards her Mother to ask the names of those awful things when a lightning strike flickered through the windows of the old mansion and the little girl saw something she didn't quite understand.

"Leslie!" her Fathers voice sounded.

Mommy was red and it wasn't Her brilliant hair, but She was wet looking with her hair matted around her tan forehead. The little Girl barely noticed her older cousin pulling her back into the living room and into a small closet under the stairs. She could still see though, and what she saw fascinated her. That gloriously tall, pale Woman.

With her equally pale hair and skin She glowed in what little moonlight the storm provided. Her white teeth shone through her full, pallid pink lips and when She smiled the little Girl was fascinated. The little Girls Father rushed in and quickly assessed the horrid situation.

With a moan of agony he looked down at his wife. She was bitten. He quickly went towards his wife and, with a shaking hand, snapped her neck. It was the only choice, he couldn't allow it to take over his beautiful love. Father then turned around to meet the eyes of the calculating murderer who stood with dainty hands clasped and Her pretty head bowed.

"It 'tis such a shame, Garson." the pale Woman whispered. "Immortality would suit her so. You know it, Garson." Her voice was the most delicious velvet she had ever heard. It was nicer than her Mothers gentle melody of a voice or her Fathers baritone that rumbled in a most entertaining way. What interested the little girl even more than Her deathly skin was, the way the Woman moved. She was like water. So fluid and smooth, but with the speed of a cobra.

"Get out, Sang. Now." Father whispered dangerously. The little Girl shivered at her Fathers deadly tone. The Woman sighed and the little Girl swore she saw the air fog as if the Woman's breath was that cold.

"You know I can't, Garson." the Woman whispered.

Then with a move so quick the little Girl couldn't follow it, her Father attempted to attack the Woman but the Woman was quicker and She broke Fathers back right in half. The little Girls cousin stopped breathing behind her and She knew that as her cue to cover her eyes as She heard the most sickening ripping sound. Later on She found out that the Woman efficiently decapitated both Mother and Father and quietly left. But not before leaving a note on the table and few parting words.

"Wij zullen opnieuw kinderen van Lockhart ontmoeten." She warned. The little Girl didn't hear it though. She was already unconscious and it was sad She never expected her future.


	2. Wary

"Who's Ahab, again?" Richie asked.

"He was the seventh King of the Northern Kingdom who married Jezebel." I said, " She persuaded him to abandon the worship of God for Baal, the pagan deity."

"That's coolies. Thanks for the help, Tally." He weakly responded. Richie was currently muffled by the large, blue notebook in front of him. He was attending college, which meant homework, which was unnecessary to me.

"Well, we can't all just know stuff like you. You know that." Richie muttered. My sharp hearing assured me that I would hear it though.

I responded just as quietly, "Yeah, and we can't all read minds you know, _Richie._" I made sure to sneer his name. That always got him going.

"Not gonna work, Thalia." He said, using my full name. I hated that, which he knew, of course. "That tattoo, what was it?" Rich asked as I suppressed a shiver that still escaped down my spine.

"It was a fleur-de-lis. It's generally described as a lily and it is used in various places though," I thought letting the information flood my mind, "it's very popular in french royalty. It quite literally means lily flower in french you know." I finished as Rich just grunted in his man way of saying 'alright, thanks Tally. You're a great lil' cuz you know. I don't tell you that enough'.

"Thanks Tally. You rock, never change." He said quickly and totally insincerely

"You're an ass, Rich." I bit back.

"Seriously, Tally. What do you think he wanted?" Rich whispered, with uncharacteristic signs of nervousness on his face.

I responded naturally and out of worry, "I don't know. His attack wasn't natural. It was premeditated. We just barely fended him off. We can't let that happen again. We need new stock." He watched me with his face that was so much like my own and his usual snarky mask of annoying arrogance slowly came back. And as always, with his usual unfailing trust in me he got up and quickly forgot his homework.

"I'll call Ben."


	3. A Life's Story

Author's Notes:

I know it's been slow so far but I'm starting to really get it going in this chapter so please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Any similarities are simply coincidence, I own nothing and I want everything.

* * *

I suppose this is the part where I explain myself, right? Well, my name is Thalia Lockhart. My family was a rather prestigious one until they were all slaughtered. My parents, Leslie and Garson Lockhart were the last on the list. Richie and I were spared. We're 1st cousins, and he was staying with us because they murdered his parents before they moved onto my own.

It was because of Rich that I survived. He pulled me into our sanctuary underneath the stairs in my parents' 4-story Victorian mansion. The door had shutters though, so Mother could hear and monitor us, and we saw Mother and Father savagely killed in the family room Mother kept so clean and perfect. I passed out before it got too bad but Richie saw it all and he's still screwed up about it. I don't blame him. The sight of the aftermath was enough for me to cause a life of nightmares after it.

The 'they' that killed my parents is still unknown. Richie maintains that it was some pale woman but I don't believe a woman of his description could kill them so easily. The police had a 7 minute response time that night and one single female could never do that to two strong, beautiful people that quickly. I wish every day of my life, I could remember one detail except Mothers head three feet from her body and Father bent at such a sickening angle.

I've already verified that my family was a well known one, but it wasn't by normal standards. They weren't actors or writers, they were utterly supernatural. Richie's dad, my mother's twin brother, could make you think and do whatever he wanted. It was a talent my mother eventually mastered as well, though it was much more difficult for her. My mother's natural talents were her twin's opposite. She could read minds and delve deep into your inner psyche. Television producers soon found out and attempted to make a show out of it.

The show, eloquently called "Psychic's Translated", was a show about a series of different psychics and there ability's. People would ask questions in which they answered using their talents and then people would be interviewed in a cliché room with a crystal ball and the like of that stereotypical crap, and they would tell the camera about their experience and how they interpreted it. Then the psychics were interviewed and sometimes, they admitted extra details about their own experience and what they got from the person they answered. It was there in the studio, where my mother met Garson.

He was a tall, handsome man, with those movie star good looks and deep, sincere eyes. He was also an empath. He could sense your emotions or the emotions of others around you. He was never a fan of Psychic's Translated, but when he met my mother he stayed just for a reason to see her. They were a good match, I've been told that many times since their death.

Richie inherited the ability to read others thoughts and, like my mother, if he tries hard enough he can make you think certain thoughts involuntarily as well. My ability on the other hand is completely unique to the Lockhart legacy.

I just know things. If you ask me a question, I know the answer. It doesn't matter what the question is, I'll know the answer, even if it's personal. The catch is, if it's personal, you've got to ask me or else I'm clueless to the answer. General information is easy but personal do-not-put-this-on-Facebook information is on a need to ask basis.

It was a great thing to use in high school. I just had to trick the little preppy girls into asking me something about them that I wouldn't normally know and I knew the answer, no question of how embarrassing. People didn't mess with me after a few of those incidents.

It's the main reason I'm not currently attending college. If I need to know anything I'll just think about it and the information comes to me. Plus, no preppy girls scampering around in sleazy clothes and annoying voices. The money to support Richie and I currently comes from mine and Richie's trust funds, which thanks to our cheap apartment, is in no danger.

Richie is a tall (6'6 to be exact), and has anger issues. He would get upset if he knew I said that but, oh well. His brown hair goes down past his ears in messy disarray and his face is much like mine. Round, with a button nose a full lips, which keeps his set in a straight line most of the time something I constantly dog him for. There are differences between us, naturally. I'm only 5'10 and my lips are fuller and more feminine. I'm paler as I've never been able to tan, though both Mother and Father had gorgeous tan skin. My hair is long and pin straight, unlike his waves and has more red in it. The one thing that is exactly the same though, is our blue eyes, which are nearly white towards the iris while being a dark blue on the outside. We were perfectly normal, at least as normal as we can be, before Ben came into our life.


	4. Discovery

Author's Notes: I hope this chapter is better and more entertaining for everyone. I tried to make it longer and more adventurous.

**Disclaimer:** Any similarities are simply coincidence. I mean no offence. I own nothing and I want everything.

I should say one thing about Ben before I fully describe him. He is gay. Men in tights, loves musicals, wears rainbows, _gay_. That, I immediately knew when he first appeared on our doorstep. He said he liked computers, and since has proved that much to me. He also said he knew who, or what, killed my entire family.

Vampires. He said the word so bluntly that I couldn't believe it. Richie almost looked smug as I simply blanched. He proceeded to say that the blond woman Richie described was a vampire. A very old one, which was trying to eliminate the Lockhart family because they were renowned as being extremely passionate _hunters_.

Apparently, the countless karate classes Mother sent me to were preparation for a life of trying to kill vampires and Richie actually helped the poor, crazy guy establish these ridiculous ideas. He thought it made sense, our parents having these ability's, always having to be so healthy and fit. I thought Mother was just a fitness freak. But Richie had me when it came to Mother and Fathers disappearances at random times.

Of course, since I was so young I don't remember staying with Grandmother when Mother and Father and Uncle Charles were all gone as well as Richie does. Grandmother was always so worried when they were gone but I never truly understood. Vampires couldn't possibly be an appropriate reason for random business trips. When I took this evidence to Richie he brought up something I thought we agreed to never speak of.

"What about when that thing attacked Aunt Leslie. Huh?" He questioned, "You remember how sick she was after she got rid of it. Uncle Garson didn't leave her alone for a good month after that."

"Father said it was a burglar, Richie." I said as slowly and as dangerously as I could. He had a point. I remembered the noises; they still accompanied my occasional nightmare. But there was a logical explanation. It was a burglar, nothing more. He simply snuck up on Mother and she was overpowered.

"Yeah, but-" Richie argued.

"Are you calling my father a liar, Richard Lockhart?" I growled. It didn't matter if it made any sense, nobody tarnished Fathers reputation.

"Actually," Ben started, his first words since Rich and I started out spat, "It could have been a burglar but, all I'm trying to say is that if your mother was so fit and smart as you all describe her then she wouldn't have been taken down so easily by just a robber. It's as much a possibility of a vampire as it is a burglar."

Ben was brave for standing up to me like that and, he knew it. He looked like he was nearly shaking but his handsome, gay face stayed stoic. It gave me time to look him over. He looked some Ralph Lauren model in the magazines I never looked at. His hair was blond and at a perfect length and his eyes were a bright green. He was at a height right between Richie and I's.

Richie laughed and approached the scared, gay man. " Ha, I like you Ben. Your cool, man.

Not many guys would have the _cajones_ to stick up for themselves against her." He ended with a finger pointed directly at me. I rolled my eyes and walked towards Ben with my hand extended. Ben awkwardly took it and I swear I saw glitter on his eyes.

"Thanks, Thalia. So does this mean you believe me now?" His voice was becoming confident, I focused on his mind and Richie chuckled. He could tell I was trying to look into his head a little. As always, it was a struggle to break into his head but I managed to tell that he was truly gaining confidence and trust in me. I almost felt bad for ruining his hopes.

"No, I think you're a crazy little gay man who desperately needs psychological help." With that I left to try and find a good thinking spot somewhere away from those images Ben and Richie had dug up from my memory.

Here's a tip for people like me: if somebody told you vampires exist and they killed your whole family when you were little and you managed to survive, don't go outside alone and distracted. That's what I did.

I suppose paranoia set in when I heard the mysterious growling-slash-chuckling. I was never one to be scared but even though it was a clearly overdone laugh, I started getting some chills. I tried remembering Ben's tips on vampire killing though I was fairly sure it wasn't some blood sucking fiend of the night.

Ben said that vampires were damn near impossible to kill. You could rip and tear and cut with all your might but, because of their 'fascinating' (his words not mine) ability to heal at a rapid pace, you had to either burn the remains as quickly as you could or separate the pieces and run. According to Ben, if you chose to do the latter, the pieces would find each other and begin slowly but surely healing together again. That was not a sight I wanted to see.

I guess I really did believe in vampires at that moment. Every fiber of my being sensed something that wasn't human and I was always one to go with my instinct.

"Alright you friggin' nasty things!" I yelled, trying to keep my voice from quaking like the rest of my body was. "Who are you?" I screamed. I gasped at the pure terror in my voice. I didn't want to die this way. If these things were real I wasn't going to allow them to take me down. I was stronger. I was the last Lockhart female and I had to stomp down the urge to run away and cry.

"Your question is so naive, Thalia." A quiet, melodic voice said. I sucked in all the air I could and prepared to scream but before I could I felt its chilly breath on me and all the air in my lungs escaped in a soft '_whoosh'_.

I sprinted away as fast as I could and I managed to find an empty apartment building which I quickly broke into. A flight of stairs greeted me and I ran up them, fully aware that while I was getting away from the monster, I was also trapping myself in an old building that nobody would think to look for me in. I heard him behind me as I ran into a dead end. The door to the roof was locked and I was panting so hard I didn't have the energy to even try and open it. With a quiet sense of happiness I looked at the sign by the door. I had run up 5 flights. The deadbolt on the door had my emotions plummeting again. I was trapped.

Then, it made a mistake. It asked me a question. "Who am I, Miss Thalia?" It thought it had me and it afforded a soft, arrogant laugh. But I wasn't listening; I was watching the images my talent gave me.

It was a He. A very old vampire by the name of Lameneal, which means the angel of the moon. He was born around 90 BC and he once loved. He was driven crazy by the love of his life, Abigail. She was a soft, pretty peasant girl whom he wanted to turn but she saw his true form and in her angst of loving a demon, slit her throat with her father's buck knife.

Her death drove Lameneal mad, and he adopted a nomad lifestyle. He killed or in some cases, fought anything that came his way and then he met a vampire that had the appearance of his beloved Abigail. Her name was Katarina and he followed her everywhere. She and her cousin, Sang, were women scorned by the Lockhart family. Their mates had been killed by my Uncle Charles and they quickly realized their power over Lameneal and he knew it too. He didn't care though, and under Katarina's orders, he and Sang began killing my family. Through his mind I saw the murder of family members I once knew or knew of. I would describe it to you but such an event is indescribable.

When I saw everything, I was gasping and nearly doubled over. I wanted to heave in an attempt to try to purge those memories. I never needed to see Grandmother killed and feel his joyous emotions at the sight of her drained body. I never wanted to see him talking to Sang as she described killing my parents and leaving two children behind as a kind of psychological torture.

But I did know these things now. It was part of my gift that I knew things like that and I handled them well. I couldn't leave Richie to dwell on my own madness. I needed to kill these vengeful beings so that nobody ever knew torment like I or Richie did. I was truly a hunter.

"What's wrong, little one?" Lameneal asked, his breath a putrid stench to my nostrils. "Are you scared because you know I'm going to kill you? I am, you know. I'm going to drain you and then I'm going to do the same to the last remaining Lockhart, Richard."

"Not if I kill you first, Lameneal." My voice resounded. I had never heard my voice sound so deadly and low. Lameneal backed off at the sound of his name and I took advantage of his distraction by kicking him square in the shin and rounding on him to deliver a superb kick in the jugular. He barely staggered back and I knew I had to step it up a notch so I punched as hard as I could right in the gut.

That got him to lurch back and I grabbed his arm and twisted until I was sweating and his arm gave with a snap that would have haunted me if I wasn't so pissed at him. I had never held a severed arm and I didn't want to any longer so I threw it and ran towards Lameneal again but he was quick and already recovering from the shock of my knowledge and attack.

He took his good arm and wrapped it around my torso then with a pressure that seemed relaxed for him, he broke a few ribs. The noise was like when you break those cheap chopsticks apart at China Wok except this hurt.

I screamed and he dropped me. With an impossible speed he ran towards his arm and babied it until I heard a sickening suction noise and his arm reattached itself. I felt paralyzed and my whole body hurt. I hadn't been working out like I once did and even so, I wasn't used to being thrown around like that.

I was dangerously close to passing out and my vision was covered with little spots. I knew that I definitely wasn't in good shape. Lameneal knew that too and he approached with a sickly satisfied smile. I saw him bend down and cradle me like it was all a dream. His sharp teeth slowly came towards my throat and I gave up all hope in his iron grip.

"Abigail wouldn't approve of this you know." I whispered, almost as if I knew this creature well enough to admonish it like I was. My breath was coming in shorter gasps and my heartbeat was slowing but Lameneal stopped his advance and in a not so gentle manner dropped me as he stood up.

"How-" But he never got to finish because a dark angel saved me as Lameneal was brought down by a rough looking group and my vision officially went.


End file.
